Dream Interrupted
by kerianne
Summary: FF.net ate my fic. >_


Dream, Interrupted

By: Kerianne (mpike@froggernet.com)

Pairing: Brad/Schu

Content: Shounen-ai, lotsa angst

Spoilers: None

_~No.~_

The word echoed in his mind, endlessly, over and over. No. A single syllable, a tiny, insignificant word. And yet.... It held more meaning and more power than a thousand such words. It had the power to break his heart, a power that a million love songs and poems and tales of tragedy could never compare to.

"Why," he whispered, face against his pillow. His glasses were neatly folded on his bedside table. The world was blurred, edges fading into each other. Nothing was clear, least of all his mind.

Why? What a question. The worst part, he realized, rolling over and staring up at the cold white ceiling, was that there was no answer. He had not been told, and he would never ask; his pride was far too great. This would forever remain the mystery, one of the only questions that the Oracle could not answer.

He had not seen this coming.

_If I had known the outcome, would I have still tried?_

His eyes closed as another wave of emotional pain washed over him. It was over, it was done, and he just wanted to forget about it now. To forget; yes, that was all he wanted. The future had become the past, history had been written, and nothing would change. But the memory lingered, a fresh wound that had not yet begun to heal.....

* * * * *

Crawford tapped his fingers against the desk, unable to sit still. He felt oddly younger and more awkward suddenly, not at all like the capable man, powerful leader of Schwarz and talented psychic that he knew himself to be.

_Talented psychic._ He scoffed a bit at the words, realizing the irony. Despite his powers, he could not see the outcome of what he was about to do. It did not happen often; usually, when he tried hard enough, he could See just about whatever he wanted to know. _Maybe I don't *want* to know._

Shaking his head, he smoothed down his suit and checked the clock for the millionth time. Five minutes to go. _I can't possibly wait that long._ And yet, he had waited weeks, months, years for this....

_It will be worth it,_ Crawford told himself firmly. He had to take his time, take this slowly, be patient. But it would happen. The dream he had at first tried to stifle, then begrudgingly accepted, and finally pursued would be realized at last. The feeling was too strong; it was impossible that Schuldig did not feel it as well. Crawford refused to let himself even consider the possibility that he did not. Fate would not play such a cruel trick on him, not with something this serious.

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the other man enter the room; but not for long, for Schuldig was impossible to ignore. He commanded the attention of everyone in his presence, with his tall stature, the wild flame-colored hair, and the aura of complete confidence and power he gave off. Why not be confident when minds were like open books to you?

"Yes, Brad? You wanted to see me?" The voice, the slightly nasal tones that Crawford had at first found repulsive and irritating. Now he would give anything to hear that voice; it wrapped around him, lulling him into a sort of trance, becoming just another thing to love about the beautiful image that stood before him.

Crawford swallowed hard, sure that his nervousness was obvious on his face, and nodded. "Sit down."

Schuldig sat, settling comfortably into the chair, long legs stretched in front of him. Crawford noticed his every movement, every breath he took, the expressions crossing his face; he took it all in, his senses strangely heightened at this moment in time.

"Well?" Schuldig smirked. "What's this all about, oh fearless leader?"

Crawford's eyes roved the room behind his glasses. _Now or never._ Breathing deeply, he said, "Actually, this isn't a business meeting."

The redhead frowned in confusion, but Crawford didn't give him a chance to speak up. Terrified that he might lose his nerve and the moment would slip past his fingers, never to be recreated, he plunged ahead, nearly tripping over his words. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. Maybe you've already figured it out, one way or another. I just want you to know that I... well, I love you." The words didn't seem quite right. It didn't seem possible that this overwhelming feeling could be addressed by three simple words, but it was the best he could do. He felt time slow and finally come to a stop as they stared at each other, silence reigning over the room.

Schuldig was still frowning slightly, an unreadable expression in the slate blue eyes that stared into Crawford's deep brown ones. The moment dragged on. _Any moment now. Any moment now he'll smile and tell me he's felt the same way, he's in love with me too, please, please....._

Suddenly Schuldig's eyes dropped to the ground, and Crawford's heart dropped with them.

"Brad, I...." He was still averting his gaze, now running a hand through his hair, and Crawford could almost see the words held on his lips, the true feelings he was holding back.

"Say something. Please, just say something, anything...." He had not meant to speak, but the words sobbed out from his throat, laced with the pain and desperation he could not hide.

"I'm sorry, Brad, but I..." For once in his life, the redhead was completely serious. His eyes finally came to meet Crawford's, and the other man saw sorrow there, worry, shame, regret.... but not love. Not love.

"You... you don't...." He trailed off to a whisper. They both knew what he meant; it was not necessary to twist the thorn in his heart any more by voicing the question.

It took Schuldig a long time to answer. He twisted his hands fitfully in his lap, a nervous gesture Crawford had never seen before. Looking down at the floor again, he sighed, in a barely audible tone:

"No."

* * * * *

Five minutes. That was all it had taken for Crawford's whole world to crash down around him, and now he lay in the rubble, not even caring enough to try to put things back together again. His one shining ray of hope, the thing that had kept him going on his hardest days, when the guilt and the horror of his life had caught up to him and he could barely look at himself in the mirror.... it was gone. A life had come to an end with a single word, one unimportant little word.

He looked at the clock. 3 AM. Much later than he had thought. How long had he been lying here, constantly rerunning that moment in his mind, hating himself and the world more and more with every passing minute?

Too long. He stood up, decisively. He was going somewhere, anywhere. Maybe for a walk... maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Maybe downstairs to drink himself into oblivion. Anywhere but this dark, cramped little room that had come to represent his failure, his loneliness, his desperation. His life.

Strangely, he found his feet were carrying him to Schuldig's room.

Not quite sure what he was doing, he slipped quietly through the open door, and stood watching the other man sleep. Schuldig's face was still and calm, his breathing deep and even, his hair spread around him on the pillow like a fiery halo. Beautiful, as always. Crawford bit his lip, unable to look away, although the sight of him made the pain all the more urgent. This temptation, this lovely creature who would never belong to him.....

He stared at Schuldig until he couldn't stand it any longer, until he felt he had to do something or the world would tilt off its axis and everything would fall apart. Then he leaned forward, kissed the redhead gently on the forehead, and left just as quickly as he had come.

A goodbye offering. A farewell, to Schuldig, as well as to the dashed hopes, the interrupted dream that lay in irreparable shards at his feet. The future he had been unable to see had come to pass. He felt empty, drained, beyond crying, as he returned to the solitude of his room.

It was over.

the end


End file.
